


The Distance Between the Stars

by Rho_Jaihtlyn



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Biomedical Devices, Hurt Lance (Voltron), I feel like this is all over the place, Lance (Voltron) Angst, Langst, M/M, Mute Lance (Voltron), Overuse of italics, Pain, Pining Keith (Voltron), Pining Lance (Voltron), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, can this be considered PTSD?, mentions of traumatic experiences, probably ooc honestly, set in and around season six, temporary major character death, this took ages please take it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2019-08-19
Packaged: 2020-09-07 08:33:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20306536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rho_Jaihtlyn/pseuds/Rho_Jaihtlyn
Summary: He found himself wondering often if the stars that twinkled out in space were lonely. They traveled thousands of miles every day on the castle, moving from planet to planet and galaxy to galaxy. They saw planets with raging seas and seven moons and planets made of desert sand with no moons, some with rings, some without a core and others still with no ground at all. Moons that had moons of their own, rings made of planets themselves. Meteors that could sustain life, black holes, white holes, comets made completely of iron, and life of so many various forms inhabiting almost every single one of them.But they very rarely ever passed a star.





	The Distance Between the Stars

**Author's Note:**

> It's been over a year since I've watched season six of Voltron, but I can't find it in myself to put myself through the emotional pain of rewatching it. I apologize for any inconsistencies.
> 
> 12/8/19  
I'm rewriting the ending to this. The last few paragraphs have been deleted from this work, and I'm working on the alternate (more plausible) ending now. We'll see with my track record if it ever gets finished.

It’s not that Lance was angry that Allura had saved him. On the contrary, he was ecstatic that his soul wasn’t floating aimlessly in space or in Red’s subconscious or wherever he went when that blast hit him. 

But if Allura had told him he would lose some semblance of himself when he came back, he may have just told her to stop, let him go, they could find another Red Paladin.

It’s not like he had much of a chance to ask, though.

He died, went on a short trip around what had to have been the most _ boring _ place in the universe, then woke up in the seat of his lion, looking straight up at Allura’s face above him. He still remembers the relief, concern, the slowly fading _ fear _ swimming in her eyes. He thanked her, he thought, and she had smiled and held him, and even with all of his fantasies he never could have predicted how it felt. Like déjà vu. But it was such a fleeting moment he was conscious, he never could place what was so familiar about it.

The pain, though, the pain haunted him. 

He had nightmares, woke up in cold sweats and a dying scream on his lips, clutching his hands to his chest as he willed the tingling in his fingertips away. His ears buzzed when he was alone. In the dark, his eyes saw flashes of light that sent his heart racing. He couldn’t sleep with the lights off anymore. His skin itched constantly, and no matter how short he cut his fingernails or how long he scrubbed his hands the prickling feeling never went away. And he was so cold, always cold, freezing freezing freezing to death, death, _ dead– _

They’d done tests on him when he came back, just to make sure. He was physically very healthy. Almost everything came back normal.

_ Almost everything. _

When Allura finally explained the whole “transferring a soul back into a body sometimes forgets a thing or two” situation, he was expecting something more along the lines of losing his memories, or maybe a slight change in his personality, or sudden inability to understand english as his brain reverted back to spanish. 

“Okay Lance, try again.”

“Lis es go sdoo bed.”

“Nope, recalibrating. Hunk, move sensor D three millimeters back.”

“On it.”

“Lance, again.”

“Lis woned werg.”

Never in his wildest dreams would he have expected to lose his voice.

“We’re getting closer.” Pidge pushed her glasses up on her nose, typing away at her computer in her lap. “Hunk, sensor A isn’t centered.” She tossed back the last of her water and threw the empty package over her shoulder into a growing pile of trash. 

They’d been at this for hours now, tweeking and adjusting, over and over and over again and Lance was getting bored. And slightly discouraged. 

He really had no room to be complaining though. Hunk and Pidge had spent _ weeks _ working on this device, and when they had finally finished the first prototype, Lance was so excited he couldn’t stop smiling long enough to properly run the tests. But, that problem in itself was reason enough for them to head back to the drawing board. 

The second one was unable to track the movement of his tongue and could only match the target syllable 8% of the time. The third tasted bad, the fourth malfunctioned before they even got it into Lance’s mouth, and neither the fifth _ or _sixth one could get above a 43% successful transcription. Which would not be high enough if he ever wanted to talk to anyone coherently again.

So, here they were, testing and retesting the seventh trial still with little success. As much as Lance wanted his voice back, he really wasn’t sure if it was worth all of the effort his friends had been putting into it.

The first couple of weeks after he lost his voice had been rough. His _ entire _ personality was centered around his smart-alec quipps and humorous flirts and witty puns. He spoke out at inappropriate times and said some inappropriate things. He made _ completely inaccurate _ alarm sounds and created sound effects for everything. He could make people laugh, _ genuinely _ laugh, laugh until they had tears in their eyes and were clutching their stomachs. That was who he was. 

It was hard for him, suddenly being cast out of the conversation. The others tried at first, of course they did, they cared about him. They tried to include him as much as they could, but it took too long for Lance to write down what he wanted to say before they were moving along to the next topic. There were awkward pauses when they would talk, look to him and wait for some remark on his part that never came, and then they would blink at each other and keep going.

The pauses turned to short hesitations, then quick glances towards him in between words, and then it was just them, talking to each other, as Lance sat at the end of the table and tried to follow along. There was nothing left of his presence in the conversation.

Lance began spending a lot of time alone after that. But it’s not like the team had any free time to mess around with him anyway, he didn’t blame them. Hunk and Pidge spent all of their time trying to improve their device for him, even though Lance knew they had many other more important things they could have been doing with their time and had told them on more than one occasion that they didn’t need to waste what free time they had on him. But they insisted, so he left them alone to work, and stayed feeling simultaneously grateful and guilty.

Allura had been busy working out alliances with the coalition, with input from Shiro and their new ally Lotor, and Coran was either helping the princess, or repairing something. Even if nothing really needed repaired, he couldn’t sit still, and found something to busy himself with. Sometimes Coran would let Lance help him, and Lance would listen to the stories he came up with as they worked. He may not have enjoyed chores back on Earth, or even after they came to space, but he grew to like them. It was the only real interaction he got anymore, even if it was just for his physical labor.

He spent most of his time in his room, though, or on the deck when he found it empty. He had tried training at first, when he got restless, and it occupied him for a few days. Then he slipped up, a complete accident, and got knocked to the ground by a bot, rolled his ankle pretty hard, and couldn’t get out of range of the next blow that landed right across his forehead.

Shiro found him unconscious on the floor when he came in for his evening spar. They decided it was too dangerous for Lance to train alone when he couldn’t call for help.

Lance spent a lot of time looking at the stars now.

He found himself wondering often if the stars that twinkled out in space were lonely. They traveled thousands of miles every day on the castle, moving from planet to planet and galaxy to galaxy. They saw planets with raging seas and seven moons and planets made of desert sand with no moons, some with rings, some without a core and others still with no ground at all. Moons that had moons of their own, rings made of planets themselves. Meteors that could sustain life, black holes, white holes, comets made completely of iron, and life of so many various forms inhabiting almost every single one of them.

But they very rarely ever passed a star. 

Many of the alien planets shared one star. There was far too much distance between the star of these planets, and the star of the next galaxy. It must be lonely, Lance figured, to be so far away from others like you. So far away from anyone who could understand what you were going through. Maybe they thought, sometimes, that they were the only one, that there was no one else, that maybe, something went wrong, and they existed completely on accident.

Other times, Lance looked at the stars, and he couldn’t stop his mind from wandering to all the other people existing. They were out there, somewhere, eating dinner or getting a pet or going to school. Countless numbers of people living, just like him, just like his family. They were out there.

_ Keith _ was out there.

When Keith had told the team he was leaving for the Blades full-time, Lance went through the five stages of grief all in the twenty-two steps it took him to walk out the door of the castle deck. He knew, as soon as Keith broke the news. He knew he was leaving because of what Lance had told him. It was too perfectly timed for it to have been anything else. 

And it hurt him, that Keith thought the best way to help Lance was to leave. Not because he thought they had been getting along better. They had, and it _ did _ sting that he just left without giving Lance a heads up or trusting him enough to talk to him before he made his decision. Not that he thought Keith couldn’t make his own decisions, or that he was important enough to be a part of that process, but some part of him deep inside had that hope that, just maybe, he _ was _ important to Keith. 

It hurt him. But what hurt the most was that Keith couldn’t come up with any way else for Lance to remain a paladin. Lance ran it over and over in his head before bed, trying to come up with a way that would have allowed both Keith _ and _Lance to have room on the team. But he couldn’t. Hours and hours and hours he spent trying to reason with himself, trying to tell himself he wasn’t the reason Keith had left, that he was valuable and talented and worthy of his paladin status.

Then he died, had to be revived, lost his voice. His muteness burdened the rest of the team. He couldn’t warn his teammates about dangers, couldn’t help strategize plans in sticky situations like he had previously prided himself on, couldn’t ask for help when he was in over his head. The rest of the team were forced to be extra cognizant of their surroundings, and they had made a system where Lance and Red were never to be left on their own. 

Lance was more useless now than he was before Keith had left.

He wondered if Keith ever regretted his choice, if he ever wanted to come back to the team. In his own, selfish mind, he hoped that Keith missed them, that it hurt him to be away from them as much as it hurt Lance that Keith left them.

They hadn’t heard from Keith in a while now. His commanding officer had given them the information that he had been sent off on an important mission months ago, but every time they asked about him their questions were deliberately ignored. Lance could only assume he was okay, enough so that his performance earned him the respect and honor he deserved. 

Reflecting on his own situation, Lance really hoped nothing had happened to him. The thought that something serious could have gone wrong, and Lance would never have any idea, circled through his brain. Because Lance had _ died _.

And Keith had no idea.

“Alright, Lance,” Pidge rubbed the bridge of her nose, shut her eyes just for a moment. “I think we’re done for today.”

Lance nodded and let Hunk remove the device from his mouth. He smacked his lips together a couple of times to get rid of the unpleasant sensation the altean metal left in his mouth, and Hunk patted him on the shoulder. “We’ll get there, buddy. We just need more time.” He gave him a smile. Lance forced himself to return it.

“I don’t understand what’s wrong with it,” Pidge groused. “We’ve gone over _ every _ dimension and calculation hundreds of times. I even reprogrammed it with some set words and it _ still _won’t recognize them. I don’t understand what we’re missing.”

“_ Pidge _.”

Pidge startled, like she had been talking to herself and forgot they were there. “Sorry. Sorry, I’m just frustrated.” She turned to face Lance and took a breath to calm herself. “It’ll work.” She told him, looked down at her lap. “It has to.”

They went back to their work, Lance went back to his room.

Shit hit the fan pretty quickly after that.

Keith suddenly appeared after four months, with a Galra he claimed was his mother, a space wolf that looked like it could eat Lance in two bites if it wanted to, and an Altean who apparently came from a planet that was filled with other Alteans, contrary to the team’s previous belief that Coran and the princess were the only ones left. 

Lotor was revealed to be harvesting energy from the planet, found out it was actually a set-up that the witch was all behind, then Shiro went berserk and kidnapped Lotor, Keith became the black paladin _ again, _ left them _ again _ . They were attacked, almost died, blew up the castleship, landed on a conveniently placed planet, and brought Shiro back to life because he had apparently been dead for almost a _ year _.

Lance was exhausted. He just wanted a moment’s peace, just one where he wasn’t being threatened or shot at. He wanted to sit with his friends and relax by a nice campfire and tell ghost stories. 

For the first time since he’d been in space, Lance prayed to anything to just let him be a teenager, just for one night.

He still hadn’t gotten the chance to talk to Keith. He had been glued to Shiro’s side since he had saved him. There was a close call at one point, Lance wasn’t really sure he was going to make it, but now he was up and walking around the temporary camp they had set up with everyone else. 

Lance caught himself watching Shiro too many times. His hair was just difficult to get used to, he tried to convince himself, but he knew the bitter scowl on his lips wasn’t because of Shiro’s new hairdo. Or, it was, but he wasn’t jealous of Shiro’s hair color.

He was infuriated, and angry, and confused and upset. 

Lance had died for three minutes. Shiro was dead for a year.

Lance lost the one thing that was the absolute most important to him as a person. Shiro didn’t lose anything.

Shiro’s hair color changed, white to match Allura’s. White to show the Altean magic coursing through him. Lance knew, he had some strands of his own hair losing their pigment too. Not enough to notice yet; he hoped it never got to that point. His silence was reminder enough that he wasn’t supposed to be alive.

When they finally all sat down together for an evening meal around a small campfire, everyone shot questions at Keith and Krolia rapid-fire. Keith was, for all intents and purposes, a _ terrible _ story-teller. But Krolia was even worse, so Keith took up the slack and explained what had happened to him as best he could. Lance was fascinated with the events of the past two years ( _ two years??) _of his life, even though he stumbled through some parts and backtracked because he had missed some things.

At one point, Lance stopped listening altogether just to watch. Keith had gotten bigger, taller. He was much more mature in how he handled situations, much more independent and at the same time much more open and vulnerable. He smiled more now, showed more praise and appreciation towards the other paladins. Lance’s chest ached, seeing him there in front of him again. Hurt and happy both at the same time, thankful that he had come back in one piece.

He didn’t miss the quick glances Keith sent his way periodically while he spoke.

Lance made sure to smile when the others laughed, frowned when they sucked in a breath at a tense part in his story, rolled his eyes when Keith told them he had done something stupid. Because even though he had grown, he was still _ Keith _, impulsive and hot headed and stubborn as always. It made a fond smile curl Lance’s lips up, to think that even though he had been gone so long, Keith was still the friend that Lance could trust.

He would just have to be a little more careful with how he worded things. Apparently, when he’s spilling his guts to an oblivious idiot, he has to be _ really specific _.

When Keith was done and the questions had settled down, everyone broke off to have their own conversations. Lance stayed for a few minutes more, then gave Hunk’s shoulder a good double-pat as he stood and began walking back towards his lion, hearing Hunk call out a goodnight to him.

Lance wasn’t at all tired, he had just gotten used to being alone so often that being around the entire team at once was a little overwhelming. 

He sat on the ground in front of Red’s right paw, leaning back against the cool metal and releasing a sigh. Red rumbled in his head, and he smiled at him and made to hum back. Red could hear him. Red was the only one that could hear him.

Red gave off another rumbling, a warning this time, and looked up to see one of the paladins walking towards him. In the dark it was difficult to make out characteristics. But Lance knew, just by the way he walked and held himself.

When he could see Keith more clearly, he smiled and gave him a small wave before dropping his hand into his lap.

“Hey,” he greeted, shoulders tense as he fought the urge to cross his arms over his chest. Lance watched his hands twitch as he kept them firmly at his sides. “Can I sit?”

Lance nodded. Keith sat.

“I’ve heard bits and pieces of what you guys have went through since I left. No one’s given me real details, but from what I can gather, my life is pretty boring compared to team Voltron’s, huh?”

Lance snorted, the only laugh he found himself capable of making. He shook his head but didn’t try to hide the smile he was wearing.

“What, not even Lance McClain will tell me what happened? It _ has _ to be something _ super secret _ then.” He nudged lance’s arm with his elbow. Lance pushed back against him.

Lance wouldn’t look at him. He kept his gaze strictly in front of him as their arms brushed. They sat in silence for a few minutes, gradually getting closer, until they were leaning against each other. Lance could feel their pinkies brushing. He didn’t dare move.

Keith shifted to pull his feet under him and let out a sigh. “Look,” he began hesitantly, “I’m...sorry that I left like that.” Lance turned to him with a frown, his eyebrows furrowed, but Keith was looking down at their hands. “It wasn’t right, I should have thought things through more, but I saw a solution to a problem and I just...I had to take it. I thought it was the only way to make things better.

“I realize now that it _ wasn’t _ the only way. There’s always more than one solution to a problem. I was just impulsive and ignorant and didn’t look at the bigger picture, like I always am and never do.” Lance snorted and shoved against his shoulder again. He felt Keith relax a little more at the gesture, and Lance realized that this whole apologizing thing probably wasn’t one of the easiest things for him to do.

Lance was thankful he was trying, but he still wasn’t sure why he was apologizing to _ him _.

“I know acting like that made me lose some of your trust, and I wouldn’t blame you for wanting to keep some distance between us now. I–” Lance stopped him by putting a hand lightly on his shoulder. Keith’s eyes met his, finally, _ finally _, and Lance smiled at him, soft and open. 

He slowly wrapped his arms around Keith’s neck to pull him into a hug. Lance heard the breath hitch in Keith’s throat as he moved his arms around Lance’s waist and squeezed him tightly. He buried his nose into the crook of Lance’s neck, and Lance slid one of his hands down over Keith’s shoulder blades and threaded the other into Keith’s unruly hair.

Keith smelled like smoke from the campfire, and underneath, cinnamon. Lance hooked his chin over Keith’s shoulder, holding him tight against him. Keith’s fingers twitched at Lance’s back, and Lance was suddenly aware of his own shaking hands, not from his intense emotions but something much more traumatic.

When they pulled back they kept their hands on each other, like they were afraid the other would just disappear if they let go. Keith’s eyes were glassy as he curled his fingers into Lance’s flight suit at his hips. “I– I know I messed up, okay? And I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness or your kindness, but I…” he trailed off, tilting his head up and biting his lip to keep the tears from falling. His voice was unsteady when he continued. 

“I spent the last two _ years _ of my life wondering if I would ever see you again. Every day you faded more and more from my memory, and I didn’t want to forget you, but the longer I was away from you the less I could remember.” He sucked in a shaking breath. 

“The day I couldn’t remember your voice I cried. My mom held me, and asked me to tell her everything about you that I could remember.” He chuckled sadly, sniffling as he brought one hand up to wipe at some tears that had slipped onto his cheeks. “I did, every night. I told her all of the stupid times we fought, and the times we worked together, and how you became my stability when Shiro was gone. I tried really hard to describe what you looked like, because I really, _ really _ didn’t want to forget how beautiful you are, but we both know I’m terrible at telling stories.” 

Lance huffed and rolled his eyes at him fondly, a blush coloring his cheekbones. Keith dropped his voice when he continued. “I told her about your eyes a lot,” he said. “I was so afraid I would forget the way you looked at me. How you would light up when you talked about your family.” He clenched his jaw and swallowed nervously, then picked his head up to make eye contact with Lance again. 

“Two years was a long, _ long _ time, Lance. And I’m still scared, that I’m going to wake up in the morning and everything will turn out to be a dream. And I would be fine with it because for now, at least, I get to see you, and feel you again. And I know that seeing you should be enough but I’m a _ selfish bastard, _ Lance, and just...please, _ please _ say something to me.” Keith was crying now, his hands trembling where they held onto him. Lance’s expression fell.

“Say my name, or your name, or tell me you hate me, I don’t _ care, _ Lance, but _ please. _” Keith’s own hiccuping breaths cut him off. Lance could see his eyes desperately searching his face as Lance’s own welled with tears, his hands moving to cup Keith’s cheeks. He knew his eyes must give away the devastation he feels as he watches Keith’s heart break in front of him.

Lance gave him a sad, quivering smile, and he tried, tried for Keith, tried so he could make him stop hurting. _ “Oh, Keith,” _ he mouthed, but there was nothing. No sound, nothing at all, only the feeling of his breath against Keith’s cheeks.

He had been frustrated and angry when he first lost his voice. But _ now _? Now he was broken, lost, upset beyond sadness that he couldn’t give the only thing Keith wanted to him. 

Lance pulled Keith’s face towards him, resting his forehead against his as he squeezed his eyes shut and his tears began to fall. _ “I’m so sorry,” _ he tried again. _ “I’m so sorry.” _ Lance knew Keith couldn’t see his lips very clearly, and if he could, he probably wouldn’t be able to understand what he wanted to say. 

A sob escaped Keith as he pulled Lance closer, tighter. Lance returned his arms around Keith’s neck. And that’s how they stayed, as the two moons of the planet raised high in the sky, beaming a purple light across the ground.

**Author's Note:**

> This took me a total of eight hours to write and loosely edit. I have no beta so I'm sure I missed some things since I'm impatient and post as soon as I finish things.
> 
> This is also the first real, decent length story I've finished in over two years, and I'm glad to be back. I feel like the ending is abrupt, and like I've left out some detail, but it wasn't supposed to be this long and it just...kept getting longer so I put an end to it.  
They do end up having a serious conversation about how Lance dies and what he went through when he couldn't speak, but I consider it happening the day after, so they're not all keyed up on emotion, and I just didn't think it fit the mood to add it to the end here. Maybe I'll write it later? We'll see.
> 
> Leave some feedback, I'd love to know what you think!


End file.
